


And Balms Applied

by Crowgirl



Series: On the Strength of the Evidence [57]
Category: Grantchester (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Minor Injuries, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 12:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14425320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl
Summary: ‘Then perhaps you should rethink tackling young roughs on cobblestones.’





	And Balms Applied

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kivrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivrin/gifts).



‘Ow -- are you doing that deliberately?’

Sidney makes his hands heavy on Geordie's shoulders, keeping him from twisting around. ‘Doing what deliberately?’

Geordie resists for a minute, then gives up with a frustrated huff. ‘Making it bloody well _hurt_ ten times as much as it did before.’

‘No.’ Sidney waits until he’s sure Geordie isn’t going to try and twist again, then leans over and digs a fingertip through the small pot of mentholated balm. The stuff’s finally softening and he manages to get a decent amount out this time.

Outside the half-open window, he can hear the girls’ voices in an excited hubbub and then Caro: ‘All right, then, come on.’

‘You can bring back some shells for the dinner table.’ He guesses Cathy’s talking to them from the kitchen window from the muffled sound of her voice. She must put her head out the window because her last words are suddenly clear: ‘Nothing too big, mind!’ A burst of laughter and the crunching of footsteps on the path towards the beach is the only answer.

Sidney smears the balm on Geordie’s bare shoulder and presses his palm over it for a minute, then, slowly, begins to press his thumbs into the knot of muscle he can feel just above Geordie's left shoulderblade. Geordie groans and tries to curl into himself away from Sidney's hands.

Sidney squeezes gently. ‘Stop it. Let me do this or you’ll hate yourself tomorrow.’

‘I hate meself _now,’_ Geordie mutters, but he straightens up and blows out a long breath.

‘What? But you’re the village hero.’

‘Oh...rubbish. Ow!’ 

‘Well, if you don’t want it to hurt,’ Sidney says, deliberately adopting a sententious tone that reminds him of his aunt talking to Jennifer when she misbehaved. He lightens his touch, though; making the muscle worse isn’t the plan. ‘Then perhaps you should rethink tackling young roughs on cobblestones.’

Geordie snorts. ‘Young roughs. If that's the best they can do for young roughs around here, they’re bloody lucky.’

‘Yes, well, the bit about the cobblestones is still sound advice.’ Sidney shifts so he’s kneeling more directly behind Geordie and tugs slightly on his upper arms, pulling him back onto the mattress; Geordie readjusts himself obediently and lets his hands drop on his thighs. 

‘What was I supposed to do: ask him nicely to pick a different till to nick?’

Sidney nods, sliding one hand around the front of Geordie’s shoulder to brace him while he presses the heel of his hand into the knotted muscle. ‘One from a shop with a nice garden out front.’

Geordie snorts again, the sound cut-off by a half-grunt of pain. Sidney can feel him _not_ pulling away and kisses the back of his neck as a reward. ‘You’re not even a policeman in this country.’

‘Keeping the queen’s peace,’ Geordie says. ‘Pretty sure that runs in Scotland as well as Cambridge -- ah!’

‘Sorry, sorry--’ Sidney presses his palm over the spot, rubbing small, light circles. Between the balm and the friction, the skin is quite hot and the top of Geordie's shoulder is blushing red.

‘Anyway. What was I supposed to do? Let that little Mrs McRanald chase the lad herself?’

‘It’s a pity Caro wasn’t there with the camera,’ Sidney says. ‘Mrs McRanald weeping on your shoulder would’ve made a great shot.’

Geordie groans. ‘She had to pick _this_ shoulder as well.’ He tries to twitch the shoulder Sidney has been working on and makes a faint sound of surprise. ‘Hey -- you fixed it.’

Sidney laughs, pressing the heel of his hand more firmly over the muscle. ‘I did no such thing.’

‘Yeah, well--’ Geordie twists around and grins at Sidney, shifting so he can slide a hand behind Sidney's head and tug him forward to kiss. Sidney lets himself be rearranged and only pulls back when Geordie seems to be done mapping the contour of his lower lip.

‘I’ve got menthol all over my hands--’ Sidney holds up his hands and wiggles his fingers to make the point. 

‘So?’ Geordie reaches over, with only a slight sound of discomfort as he stretches his abused shoulder, and begins to unbutton Sidney’s shirt. 

‘So let me go wash my hands --’

‘Mm…’ Geordie poses in a mock attitude of thought for a minute, tapping a forefinger against his chin, then shakes his head briskly, and gives Sidney a shove that sends him over on his side against the pillows, laughing, holding his hands above his head to keep from getting the greasy stuff on the sheets. 

‘Geordie--!’

‘You’ll have to be still and let me work,’ Geordie says, shifting to kneel over Sidney's thighs. ‘For once.’

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Coriolanus.](https://www.opensourceshakespeare.org/views/plays/play_view.php?WorkID=coriolanus&Act=1&Scene=6&Scope=scene&LineHighlight=690#690).


End file.
